The Pranking of Severus Snape
by galleons
Summary: For his own good, the staff of Hogwarts and assorted acquaintances attempt to save Professor Snape, despite the fact he will...perhaps the measures are a tad drastic.
1. Chapter 1: Wizarding Gossip

**The Pranking of Severus Snape**

**Chapter 1: Wizarding Gossip**

The war was now over…that much was true

But one other fact still remained…

Severus Snape was still a lonely and miserable bastard.

Yet he shouldn't be.

He was one of the three great heroes of the war. He had taken his place among Dumbledore and Potter and many others.

With special note, of course, because in many respects, his contributions were so much more taxing: double spy, short term headmaster under duress, apparent traitor, and on Lord Voldemort's followers' death list due to his error regarding ownership of the elder wand and treachery to their cause.

Yet, women were fawning over him.

Snape appeared flattered early on, but that soon passed…usually awkward, flummoxed, and in certain cases revolted.

He received several marriage proposals, dates, more offers, and even offers unmentionable.

Mrs. Zabini had offered herself or her daughter in marriage, her daughter, who was the most beautiful girl in their world.

Not to him. That was Vector…or what people whispered or snickered about behind his black, billowing robes

Celestina Warbeck once declared she would break her ongoing publicity relationship with Gilderoy Lockhart for him.

He just wasn't interested.

He was however, still annoyed and irate with the sudden attention, he hadn't asked for it, and deduced that pain relief and his energies should be directed at bothering Septima Vector, though every woman wanted him because he was famous and surely the next chocolate frog card. He even received more letters from secret admirers than he did a few years ago during the admirer debacle…

The only satisfaction he had was that Lockhart could not understand his fame and was green with envy.

_I could form a post war dueling club and Lockhart would be my assistant._

_Good. _He smirked to himself evilly.

If one alluded to this, the reserved and ever aloof Professor Snape would offer what appeared to be a small, devious and sort of smile. For him anyway…

Everyone sort of thought, though unconfirmed , they knew why, though they weren't exactly sure like most 12 year old boys, why he acted thus. And those that did know him and _her_ just threw up their hands and moved on. A shame, but surely a lost cause…

In certain respects, he had less to do and less to live for now that the war was over in their most humble opinion. If he wished to pine over a beautiful woman and most gifted witch, that was almost ten years younger than him , then so be it; Merlin, he _had _earned it. He had saved them all. Let him deny it to Merlin over and over again and send his usual delivery of blood lollipops to her doorstep as he desired. She was, er, the poor girl…probably quite used to it by now, after several years of deliveries and such. Was it really harming anyone? Er, the Dark Lord was vanquished after all, their children could now safely resume school, life _was_ back to normal, as best as could be expected and furthermore…

Really, in certain respects, his horrendous attitude, arrogance, and odd behavior was worse, and more vomit-inducing than his pre-war antics.

But alas, some colleagues and the few who could call him _friend _had a plan.

But how does one deceive a deceptor? The most cunning, diabolical man and the greatest liar in a century, as Vector once yelled at him, which most could sort of agree with.

How do you do it?

How do you try to make the most miserable man in the world happy?


	2. Chapter 2: The Summoning of Snape

**The Pranking of Severus Snape **

_**Sorry…in this fic there were survivors.**_

**Chapter 2: The Summoning of Snape**

_All was quiet at 12 Grimmauld Place until the first of Sirius Black's visitors spoke._

"_Oh, sweet Merlin, we are so dead…"_

"_He will kill us all…"_

"_Did you see when he…"_

_Most of the assorted gathering marveled at their imaginings of how many unforgiveable curses he might utilize…._

_**The Planning Stages or 30 minutes ago…**_

"In his, er…he wouldn't know the first thing about a rational, mature, adult, er, even healthy, normal relationship. Love? How about like, first?" trumpeted Sprout in dismay.

"No, I know her loves her…"whispered Hermione, softly but assured.

Convinced that Snape only wanted to sleep with her, Sirius Black made his opinion known. "No girlfriend in ages…nobody likes him…remember that chit that threw a butterbeer at him…years ago, the Death Eater minx at that dance…"scoffed Sirius Black, who was at that dance as a Hogwarts student, but deeply regretted that he had been outside on the grounds with a girl and hadn't witnessed the butterbeer make contact with Snape's face.

"…said he was too dark and morbid even for her…"reiterated Moody. "Well, that's what I heard. I was a young auror at that time, barely a few years experience and quite busy…"

"The best is when…he follows her around with those scary eyes…those dark empty…" Tonks had to chuckle. He did torture her so in Potions class about her clumsiness when she was Snape's student.

"Not then…they are not empty then," squealed Hermione trying to convince them all as Ron gave her a thoroughly bored look.

"Everyone knows he wants her badly…it is quite gross…"added Sirius, self-assured that he had done much better in his teen years which was twenty years ago and he _still_ had one over on old Snivellus. Well, being a formerly convicted felon, the taint did not exactly go away so easily. And now that the war was over he could concentrate on women, thankfully.

"Well, a bad show of hiding it. I do feel slightly sorry for him," said Lupin in hesitation, yet feeling oddly that he had to weigh in somehow.

Sirius was about to say _he _didn't, when they heard a slight movement at the front door. They knew that Snape had arrived. Even now he was just as quiet, stealthy, and unobtrusive.

Suddenly dark boots clicked on the worn, creaky wooden floor. Snape stopped abruptly. He wasn't stupid, a slight foreboding? He who had suffered so much might sense as much, they wondered.

Billowing robes stopped to a sudden halt and floated back softly to his sides.

The pale, taciturn face had thin lips pursed in thinly veiled frustration and annoyance at being disturbed.

Sirius Black rocked in reverse on the hind legs of his chair and wanted to ask if he had washed his hair, but looked at the taut lips and flaring nostrils of his former Transfiguration professor McGonagall, who was glaring at him and thought better of it.

Snape was outwardly cool and contained, though smarted and inwardly seethed with white bridled fury that now that the war was over…

_Why must I…_what was the reason he was under the roof of Sirius Black? It was a pre-war courtesy for Order purposes that he had even agreed to this in the first place for Dumbledore. Why must he be summoned in peace time? But he noted oddly that Dumbledore was not present.

Dark malevolent eyes narrowed at the company as he took them in sharply.

"Yes," he hissed eerily, with a note of impatience.

"Sniv…I mean, Snape, so glad you could come…" offered Sirius, as he rocked in his chair, the sarcasm not lost on anyone present.

McGonagall eyed him coolly.

He grew quiet.

"What is so urgent, so pressing, that could not wait until morning?" intoned Snape silkily, as his eyes darted suspiciously at the inhabitants of the basement kitchen.

Hagrid gulped and Moody nudged his staff into the rather large, cushy, and protruding side of his abdomen. His large electric blue eye goaded him on. "Well, yer see, hate ta' be ther one to tell ya' an' all…" Hagrid flushed bright red and looked down at his humungous leather boots.

"It…is about,'' piped up McGonagall, averting his eyes, with perhaps a twinge of conscience nagging at her.

Tonks, who in her nervousness had casually tried to mimic Sirius's movements, had fallen off her chair and had fallen to the ground with a harried Lupin attempting help her up. Snape rolled his eyes at the interruption. How many cauldrons had the unfortunately clumsy girl knocked into during Potions lessons years before when he had been her professor? He wasn't surprised that he had lost count.

"Yes?" he hissed, a black eyebrow raised in only mock curiosity as he held his "s" a little longer than need be.

"It is about…"

"I can't wait to hear what one can only imagine is the seemingly important news."

"It is Septima Vector," piped up Lupin, who hoped that Severus hadn't seen Tonks gently kick him under the table as she once again was seated.

"What about _her?" _He asked as he looked around the room with caution and a suspicious air.

"She…something _happened."_

And when they looked at him his face and lips had suddenly turned chalky white.

They could visibly see the woe, the worry, the apprehension. Moody mused that they should have done this awhile ago to prevent the poor girl from receiving the record number of cockroach clusters and blood lollipops that she had, and had given away over the years. The organizers of the fund for poorer vampires of the Forbidden Forest were forever grateful to her, and there was an agreement that should she ever encounter one of them, they would never bite her. Even the hags loved her because of the continuous cockroach cluster donations and vowed to leave her be, and they hated _everyone. _And Honeydukes, in an indirect way, held her sort of responsible for their strong rise in profits throughout the last few years, starting with the year she began teaching at Hogwarts. Moody's train of thought broke as he looked at Snape. The bastard looked as if he was reeling from a punch to stomach.

Not just the blow to his psyche. The words had had a physical effect as well.

Luckily, after attending so many Order meetings in that room, Snape had a sense where the chairs were because he slowly sat down, not even looking for a chair, and his dark robes fell and flowed over the armrests. He didn't trust himself to stand. He didn't trust his legs or his mouth to speak coherently at that moment. His white hands gripped the heads of the carved and ornate armrests.

At last he mustered up all of his shocked faculties and spoke. "What…is…it?"

"She, er, it is…not good. It only happened…yesterday," spoke Flitwick unconvincingly, as he looked at McGonagall, unsure he should be going along with this ruse even if it was in Snape's best interest. _What about Septima?_ Somehow they were convinced this would help her situation out too, that he would be nicer to her in future. But he didn't see how...

"But she was at work…she…I saw _her…_before she retired to her rooms she was fine. She called me a bloody moron…twice," Snape choked out in a wispy, low voice. They barely heard him.

McGonagall's lip twitched and Moody gave her a knowing look. Sirius tried not to grin in amusement because he enjoyed this name that she shouted at Snape in particular. It pretty much summed up his opinion of him too, in brief. He arranged his face into one of pity.

Sirius spoke, his face stoic. "She was run over by a hippogriff," he announced bluntly, his arms spread out wide as he shrugged and he once again rocked in his chair.

McGonagall gave him a hard look. _He couldn't have thought of anything better than that? Really now… _She spoke up.

"No, that was a rumor, really spattergroit. She is quite ill."

And Snape could only think of her beauty, how healthy and spirited she was…_and now the nasty spots that would show up on her lovely pale skin. Without continuous, consistent amounts of dittany, there was no hope of avoiding scarring, as if that would ever make him care for her less. As if she still wouldn't be beautiful to him. One of the symptoms of the first stages of spattergroit…the others were worse…_

Septima had given him a brief, nervous peck on the cheek after the battle and he had come in contact with the soft, velvety skin and smelled her…her delicious, floral scent…and he had nearly lost his mind on the spot. For a few seconds he had forgotten they had just won a war.

And his expression of sorrow was so heartfelt, so endearing, that they almost called the whole thing off when they believed they saw a large tear forming before it ran down the now gaunt face. It never made it. He wiped it away so quickly, so artfully in his condition, they were shocked and touched. But they had taken it too far, had gotten carried away, and with the way he looked, if they turned back now…who the hell would have known truly that he…

He looked mad…inconsolable…a desperate sadness etched into his strong features. His dark eyes for the first time were filled with emotion. They looked wild, yet lost, lonely, almost child-like and fear-filled. His lips were still white but his pale face almost had a greenish tinge. He looked sick and he trembled what with nerves and apprehension enveloping him. Snape's usual proud self was gone as his head drooped, his shoulders sagged, and it was pathetic; this sudden transformation within seconds of hearing about her.

"It can't be…it's not possible. Why her? Merlin…so good…so innocent…"_the complete opposite of myself, _he marveled.

The crowd around him silently agreed, though her sweet face sure had a mouth on her sometimes, what with some of the things they had heard her call Snape when he was egging her on and tormenting her. But the exquisitely lovely face with the sapphire-like blue eyes, they somehow cut the blow and nastiness of the curse words directed at Snape, and she came across as cute, and really, it was riotously funny to witness, they had to admit. They knew that even Snape thought so, secretly thought it adorable, and relished it. At least she was paying any type of attention to him, and they had seen him bask in the very negative attention. Well, they blamed _him._ She was usually being entirely provoked and baited by Snape, because he was too immature and emotionally stunted to just ask her out already! Deathly fearful of her "no," when they had a suspicion she would probably say yes, even just because she was so nice, or to stop the deliveries, or if one asked Hermione, that over the years Septima just might have developed some feelings for him too. Entirely hearsay and unconfirmed though it was.

And then he suddenly rose and looked at them, his pallid face, twisted and stricken. He fled out of Grimmauld Place within seconds. The last thing they saw was the hem of his black robes dancing violently with the speed of his exit. He was out of the room, before the last of his rather dark and voluminous robes were.

And when they heard the click of the front door, all of the voices in the room spoke out at once.


	3. Chapter 3: What They Did For Love

**The Pranking of Severus Snape**

**Chapter 3: What They Did For Love**

"Well, I'll be damned…the black-hearted sonofabitch is _mad _for her!" exclaimed Moody gruffly.

"Mad-Eye!" shouted Molly, reddening.

"Does she know?" Flitwick inquired of the recently summoned Professor Aurora Sinistra, the best friend of Septima and potential witness to Snape's awkward ogling and juvenile teasing of said best friend.

"No clue…no idea in the slightest, I believe." She shook her head. She couldn't believe what they had just told her. This was completely mad.

"Oh, dear," muttered Sprout.

"Oh, shit," mouthed Sirius Black softly but animatedly, and Molly Weasley whacked him on the shoulder anyway as she passed his chair picking up the plates on the table.

"What do we do now?" inquired McGonagall. Snape had left and there was no telling where he was going and what he would do. At least Septima was away for now.

"Somebody seriously needs to bother to contact a mediwizard. I would see that he doesn't harm himself after that…" exclaimed Tonks.

"He is too smart for that and too well-versed in self-preservation," admonished Lupin. But he didn't look overly confident. He had seen Snape's reaction and it hadn't sat well with him even after he left.

"Would…would he go to her parents?" asked Hermione. "Wouldn't he think she'd be there? Isn't that where she is anyway? Pomfrey can't keep anyone in the infirmary with spattergroit or on Hogwarts grounds. It is so contagious."

"No. Not without being invited. He has never met them and I am not sure he knows exactly where they live. Wales. They have placed charms, as most homeowners have done since the war, just in case." added McGonagall, seemingly distracted.

"He is absolutely devastated. He looks soul-less…lost…I…" offered Sprout in a stream of consciousness. She was still reeling from what she had seen from her former student and now her co-worker.

"…really looks like a dementor now…You know I have been close to them for years now to recognize…"blustered Sirius.

"SIRIUS!"

"Like a bloody thestral if you ask me, hair and all….face even and…"

"Cut the dramatics, Black," thundered Moody. "Even I have to admit it is one of the most moving things I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot." He looked maniacal with his electric blue eye, while waving his hands and his staff in the air across the table.

Those present could just gape at his gruff display at what they guessed were some kind of deeply, buried emotions finally surfacing from the ever-vigilant Mad-Eye

"How he loves her…Professor Sinistra, you really should have seen him when he was here an hour ago," said Hermione.

"I…I don't doubt it. I have seen some interesting things with those two," she admitted half-heartedly.

"You missed him dressed like the basilisk for Halloween one year. My godson and I will never forget it," barked Sirius in amusement, grinning at her.

"That was cruel," said Hermione miffed.

"This is for his own good, you said," grumbled Ron. "And yeah, he looked like a perfect idiot."

"He would never do it on his own otherwise," said Mad-Eye moodily.

"Perhaps there was no other way," chided Lupin, who disliked the duplicity of it all in a way.

A teary-eyed and moved Hagrid sniffed, remembering what had taken place only moments ago.

"I told you," chortled Tonks, as she squeezed Lupin's arm.

"How long have you known?" Lupin looked over at Sinistra.

"Er, too long, I guess. Never confirmed, by either of them, you know." She blushed in embarrassment, as if she was concerned that she was saying too much.

"You mean she might fancy him?" yelled Sirius, standing as his chair fell back. "That I am still looking for a decent girl to chat up, and old Snivellus here…"

"I knew…"interrupted Hermione, ignoring Sirius's outburst, "I always knew…the eyes…they come alive whenever she is around. Even as a student I always surmised as much, but really I was never quite sure. He is so hard to read."

"Really, a bit of a stretch now, Hermione," snorted Ron. "…an odd bloke, hates everyone and…"

"Hush, Ron! You know it is true. I took Arithmancy with Professor Vector, thank you very much, and at least once a week he entered our class and made up some excuse as to why he had to disturb her lessons."

"Listen, we all know he wants to sleep with her, but love? Come on now…"Sirius burst out with bark-like laughter, and then his gace looked like he was in deep concentration, until he blurted out, "Do you think Snivellus would even know what to do…"

"Sirius!" thundered Molly, eyeing Ron and Hermione. "And Ginny, Harry, or any of my lot could walk in here right now and they shouldn't be hearing this, really, this is quite enough now."

"Mum, we are seventeen, you know," offered Ron.

"I don't care how old you are, a little respect, Professor Snape has done so much for us."

The room grew silent, but the tension was still there. Aurora Sinistra spoke again trying to break the lull that occurred when Sirius pondered Snape's experiences in the female department.

"She…oh, Merlin, she is my best friend…I think she doesn't know it, but that she cares for him too somewhat." She was still boggled by what they had done, were trying to do, and for what deep shit all involved were in.

She reminisced about the time she had entered Septima's name into a Witch Weekly contest for a date with Lockhart and she won. Snape had taken the win into his own hands, and ended up in Azkaban overnight. Everyone knew Septima was honorable, disliked Lockhart, but went through it to be a good sport. Snape apparently was not taking any chances when he disrupted their "date."

And when Snape found out that she, Aurora, had entered Septima's name. She believed he would kill her.

Aurora still wondered if she was spared most of his wrath because she was Septima's faithful friend, and she would never talk to Snape again if anything had happened to her.

Who knew?

Aurora's thoughts were disrupted by McGonagall. "Aurora, he has left and we are not sure where he is going. Where is Septima now?"

"Why, she is at Hogwarts, of course. By now probably in her rooms…this is why I don't see why you all, er, did this tonight. All he has to do is run into her at work and…"

"You mean…nobody thought…I thought she was going to her parents?" said a shocked Lupin.

"No, you must have gotten the date wrong. I said next week, before…"

"Oh, sweet Merlin. We are dead," choked out Ron.

"Well, at least I don't have to have that greasy asshole in my house ever again and…"

"Sirius!" Everyone exclaimed.

"We had all better think fast. Not only will Severus be livid with us…" piped up Flitwick.

"Do you think?" muttered Sprout throwing up her hands in defeat and fear.

"…but it will all have been for naught. We were supposed to do…to take on this risky thing to help him…and it will have been botched before we even started," managed Flitwick.

"Aurora, you need to get to the fireplace and take Professor Vector somewhere,' said Minerva hurriedly.

"But what will I say, what if Mia won't go?"

"You can think of something? Tell her Lockhart might be visiting Hogwarts. Anything will do."

"Hmmm…she really hates him…that might work," offered Aurora hopefully.

"Good."

"Now what about Dumbledore?" asked Tonks amidst the confusion.

"We, er, haven't told him yet. But I will have to now. We were going to wait until we…saw Severus, but we also need Albus to help us. And he, well, I believe he will help if he thinks it will help Severus in the end," said Minerva.

"I think so too. I was always a little suspicious of him having Snape mentor her the minute she was hired. Any of the three of us would have been more than happy to do it. Why, er, Severus?" Sprout looked at Filius and Minerva and they nodded in understanding at what she was suggesting.

"And now for a third thing…but before we do, I think that settles it. Aurora go with Molly and Sirius to the fireplace upstairs and floo over to Septima's rooms and take her… maybe to your parents overnight," said Lupin.

"Er, okay, but you are asking me to lie to my best friend…and…"

"Do you wish to see her throw another box of blood lollipops in frustration ever again?" grumbled Moody.

"No."

"Do you wish to hear Peeves sing a rousing rendition of Old Snivelly loves Haggy Waggy in the Great Hall at dinner again? Nearly lost my own that night when I heard about it. And that little bit of gossip made it all the way to the Three Broomsticks." Moody looked slightly queasy.

"Merlin no…allright, fine then," acquiesced Aurora.

Aurora rose swiftly and followed Molly and Sirius up the stairs to the upper floors.

"Right. And now Minerva and Filius and myself will leave and go straight to the Headmaster's office to have a word with him, and we will meet again tomorrow evening. And we will all see Snape in the faculty lounge tomorrow during the day and we will let you know how he is tomorrow."

"That is if he doesn't find out before then," squeaked Hermione.

"Indeed, my dear."


	4. Chapter 4: The Faculty Lounge

**The Pranking of Severus Snape**

**Chapter 4: The Faculty Lounge**

Dumbledore was the first to arrive with McGonagall. Then Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra and her pygmy puff, Boogie, Hagrid, and assorted others of the faculty who were not involved like Trelawney, Binns, Filch, and Mrs. Norris, because this was the time of day where mostly everyone broke for tea and perhaps coffee.

Peeves was relegated to another corridor and heeded Dumbledore's warning for once. The ghosts knew something was up because they had sixth sense or something or maybe not because they probably had no senses because they were dead. They gathered they would find out later on because they just had an, er, feeling that something was not quite normal at Hogwarts because some of the teachers were acting strangely. They detected guilt over something, but they could be wrong.

Dumbledore had been briefed by Minerva as tactfully as she could. What they had done and the rationale behind it. He has listened patiently and carefully and said nothing. But thought they believed as that Renaissance muggle writer did. Well, they hoped the ends justified the means.

He had been told about the effect their words had had on Severus, and he wished to observe himself.

He would promise them nothing. If it was to help him, well, sometimes lessons were learned in discomfort. But if he felt he had to intervene and tell Severus the truth he would, if he thought he should.

He had always surmised that Severus cared for her whether he recognized it himself or not. But he hadn't made up his mind whether or not he would go along with this ruse.

For now he would just observe.

As he had been since he appointed Severus her mentor when she first started working at Hogwarts. He had observed a lot.

Sprout waved her wand from where she sat strategically in a chair, perched on the edge of her seat due to nerves, as most of the others sat on couches, chairs, or stood around the room. Waiting, knowing he would come. And double-checking that Septima's mug was next to his.

It was a nice touch.

He taught today. Some had spotted him striding quickly to the dungeons for class in the morning. On time as usual and they knew he would be coming up as he always did during his free period at least once a day for coffee.

Severus really was a tea person, but on the nights when he left the castle to work for Dumbledore or meet with the Dark Lord, depending which night it was, he rarely slept. He could be out until 4 or 5 in the morning spying or Merlin knew what else, and he would be up and ready for Breakfast at 8 or the first class period at 9.

The coffee helped him after those late nights which were at least 2 or 3 nights a week.

They were not sure if he had work the previous night. Most likely he was just suffering from lack of sleep because he had been crying into his pillow all night and thinking of Septima. Who knew? Spattergroit was a nasty business after all.

The door swung open and Flitwick double-checked again to make sure the elaborately decorated, silver coffee urn was filled with enough coffee left for Severus.

Really, why put him over the edge if he had to wait for caffeine? They had done enough to the poor fellow and should at least make this allowance for him.

Snape entered slowly and paused eerily, they noted, at the doorway when he noticed he was not alone.

He saw that most of the entire staff of Hogwarts was there. Even Filch and that damned strange cat were looking at him with sympathy which he detested. He did not need their pity. He had dealt with sorrow his entire life; sorrow and very little joy.

They noted he still looked ravaged and distraught, and he had puffy eyes and dark rings around his eyes; most likely from lack of sleep. His pale face was still stricken and pained looking as well.

But they also surmised that he _had_ been crying. There was a slight tinge of pink in his eyes. And they doubted very much that Snape, an expert dueler, especially with his superb timing, agility, skill, and knowledge of some downright nasty Dark Arts curses under his sleeve, that anyone had hit him with a Conjunctivitis spell, and he hadn't defended himself. Even though some were worried about how his level of "will to live" was doing at this point due to Septima.

It was _touching. _And in all honestly, they really meant _touching_ as in _moving._ Not like Snape did, when anyone referred to something kind or sweet and he had this nasty habit of delicately raising one black eyebrow, a sneer dripping from the corner of his mouth, as he sarcastically and softly said, "Oh, how _touching."_

And they felt like the most evil bastards known to wizarding kind.

But they had to rally on because it was for his own good.

Septima was secure at the Sinistras. Tomorrow was break and she would be leaving for her two weeks holiday time from there instead of Hogwarts.

They would ask Sinistra later, what the hell she could have possibly told her to make Septima not come in today.

Or they could ask Dumbledore what she had told her headmaster as to an excuse for leaving a day early. She was not in trouble. Septima was never late and rarely took off unless she really wasn't feeling well. She did part-time consulting at Gringotts, her former employers from time to time, and still returned to teach Arithmancy without being late.

Unless Snape had intercepted her on her way to her classroom to badger her or, er, hound her. That has happened too.

Dumbledore, to their knowledge, had kept his temporary word and had gone along with what McGonagall had told him. He trusted her and respected her after knowing her and working closely with her after so many years.

Snape surveyed the room coolly and tried to arrange his face in more controlled and composed lines upon entering.

He would not display his grief again as he had at Black's house.

Apparently, he didn't realize he may have no control over that because he still carried an air of grief.

But he really didn't care anymore and did not feel himself after a night of tossing and turning, some stiff shots of firewhiskey, and fighting off tears that wouldn't cease.

_So yes…_he had performed legilimancy on Flitwick who was staring at him with his mouth agape, _I guess you could say that I was crying into my pillow. As it were….under the circumstances…yes…you nosey old fool…_

He stepped into the room, nodded grouchily, and walked slowly over to the coffee urns, but the usual vain and striding walk was lacking.

_He is not himself. The imperious walk is, er, quite pathetic today, poor thing…_thought Sprout.

Snape thought he heard a whisper about himself and guessing correctly turned quickly and looked about the room again suspiciously as he stopped upon reaching the urn.

Aurora Sinistra shook in her seat and hoped it wasn't noticeable. If he thought she had anything to do with this or suspected something regarding Septima, well, she was dead. He had _never _gotten over the Witch Weekly contest and her role in it and he…the sonofabitch was so proficient at legilimancy she would never be able to hide _anything _from him.

So she kept her eyes and face slightly downcast and hoped for the best. She stared at her nervous hands clasped in her lap. He passed her and for a split second gave a tender look which was surprising at the pet on her lap, Boogie, the pygmy puff. Then the sneer was once again firmly in place for defense. He never allowed his emotions to break through, but under so much strain and sadness, it seems they had for a brief moment. Boogie had been purchased for her by Septima for her birthday. He seemed to remember that as he moved on without threatening to evanesco Boogie for once or to give him to Filch the squib, to use as a dust rag for the Slytherin common room.

Yes, he frequently threatened to bring about the demise of other people's cute and defenseless pets, but she still felt sorry for him. And she realized that it just might be that as well, just empty threats.

And he would never touch, not one purple hair on Boogie's body. Septima would kill him. She was his godmother after all. And she had cheerfully jeered at Snape that he should be Boogie's godfather. Knowing the humor of being godparents to pets, but she indulged her best friend, Aurora, and it was quite a joke between them.

And that was another story. Hagrid had been with them and thinking it was sweet, told of his godparents and how they were a married couple. Snape had sneered and rolled his eyes, but looked piercingly at Septima waiting for her reaction or comment to this, hoping she put two and two together, about the reference to their own status. Septima had mimicked vomiting and choking her own neck when he turned his back after an uncomfortable silence when she said nothing and ignored his stare.

Snape reached for a ceramic cup and dropped it.

He reached for another and slopped coffee all over himself.

"Here, let me," Sprout rose, and she poured it for him as he snarled his thanks softly, sounding like a wounded animal in captivity.

He dropped it again and Sprout suggested he sit in his usual high-backed chair that no one else sat in, just in case he entered the lounge for coffee at the same time they did.

He trudged slowly over to the chair, his robes billowing out and falling softly and settling as he sat. He took the cup and nodded, offering a low, deep thank you and eyed the room like a cornered animal as he took a soft, cautious sip, not trusting himself.

After three sips he could bear it no more, the silence, and the eyes watching him carefully and with outward pity, and rose with the cup and left the room abruptly.

They heard the third cup crash outside the faculty lounge door where he had dropped it. They heard a "blasted thing" shouted from the door as he cursed the cup he had dropped. Flitwick covered his ears when he heard the next expletive clearly through the door as well.

They all looked at Dumbledore as they heard Snape's footsteps die away.

"I have seen everything I need too. My own suspicions were correct…perhaps even more than I originally had suspected. It is for his own good. He does care for her and she would never imagine how much this man loves her. Carry on. You have my blessing."

Dumbledore turned from them with a small, excited grin on his delighted face, the clear blue eyes twinkling.

He really was a softy and a romantic at heart.

Dumbledore reached the door and turned around with a swish of brightly colored robes.

"I will grant my permission to have the wedding at Hogwarts. I would so delight in a reception in the Great Hall. Charming blue skies for that day I rather think," as he referred to the charmed ceiling. "And Filius, I have seen how you decorate at Christmas, perhaps you know a charm or two for wedding decorations."

He exited the lounge.

He might be jumping ahead of himself but it was certainly promising.

And now that both Snape and Dumbledore had left the talking commenced.

_**12 Grimmauld Place**_

"Hagrid, please stop sobbing." He wiped his eyes with his polka dot handkerchief.

"How heartbreaking!"

"He can't follow her around now like the sick puppy he is."

"Sirius!"

"He would rather have his soul kissed by a dementor than this, I would like to see it, he once threatened to watch mine be taken by them, honestly…"

"Sirius!"

And now they planned for what to do next. Septima was safely away at her parents and the holiday break had begun.


	5. Chapter 5: What He Did For Love

**The Pranking of Severus Snape**

**Chapter 5: What He Did For Love**

If something happened to her…he would _die_, quite simply. And the odds were good, because he risked death every day, every night with his work when the rest of Hogwarts was asleep, and weekends too. Weekends did not exist for Severus Snape.

He didn't care anymore.

_Only for her…_ She made his existence worthwhile; his mistake-laden life bearable. Who could ever replace the wit, the beauty, the barbed and idle threats, and jaw-dropping foul language coming from a tiny five foot almost nothing, gorgeous being? Perfection. Dark hair, blue eyes, and the most incandescent skin he had ever witnessed on a female. Not that he had really looked at one in years, besides Vector. And he looked at her all the time; he just pretended he wasn't.

And one had to be very careful to do it right. Meticulous, in one's pre-planning to drop a perfectly executed stream of pumpkin juice on her dress, so she was distracted and he could take in her pretty face. To dole out a false threat of spattergroit spreading throughout the school, so she would be forced to talk to him, and he could catch an intoxicating glimpse, as she chirped in fear, asking questions, and offering what she could do to help contain the epidemic. That…requires looking into someone's face and eyes to hold a conversation.

He knew them all; all the tricks that he utilized to the best of his ability. They were usually quite effective.

But none more than the standing order he had at Honeydukes to send Vector blood lollipops and cockroach clusters. The very best they had. She was the envy of witches, goblins, vampires, and hags throughout their world. Not that she appreciated it, but he did get to speak to her. It was worth every galleon he spent, he believed.

Then again, was someone yelling out curses that no decent witch or wizard would repeat in public, chatting? Having at least 5-10% of the package contents thrown at you, while doing so? These odds were better, for a little less actually connected with his face or body, when she was so angry, he calculated how it would effect her aim in throwing. Now, throw a comment regarding her loathsome appearance (another lie) or a barb commenting on her lack of intellect. Or even choose from a wide variety of magical creatures and then tell her about her resemblance, as she grabbed a candy box in a rage before throwing whatever pieces she could hold in one small hand at a time, and the odds improved considerably.

_The Usurper, the Patronus Thief, and really the only woman who could ever replace Lily in my affections now…._

He had never thought it possible. The Arithmancy Professor, whom he still marveled that people in this age considered it legitimate for a place as an academic subject.

He knew what she did. He had never found a use for it himself. Just like Sinistra, her best friend, her sidekick, and her hopelessly useless Astronomy classes. Arithmancy - breaking and entering into vaults and other illicit magical contraptions. That was his Vector, his love, nothing but a petty thief and common criminal. But such a lovely one…

_All curse breakers were surely. It is what she did full time working for Gringotts before she decided to…..ah, teach children voluntarily. _

Meaning, he couldn't believe she had a choice, and chose otherwise. He was stuck at Hogwarts, to pay for the many mistakes he had made in his youth. Not to say, that some of them hadn't grown on him, he liked many of his co-workers, seeing people learn did offer some satisfaction after all. All except Gilderoy Lockhart. He didn't consider him a professor, he didn't consider him a viable wizard.

Well, she is extremely intelligent, with beauty beyond belief, but he never called her a genius.

How could he ever have done so? It is rare to love that way once…let alone twice. One in his youth, and then again many years later after having learned many hard lessons as a man; he had been blessed. Though he was a fool who had botched it up and bungled it. It would never happen again. Her parents would never let him near her. They must have heard of his treatment of her, He had tried to approach the house. Some old harpy of a neighbor kept looking out so he fled. There had to be a better way to go about it. He would always have a record with the Wizengamot. Dumbledore had rescued him from Azkaban years before with certain future restrictions. A probation, if you will, that he had broken nearly thousands of times in his pre-war work alone.

He could not risk being sent away. If nobody could cure her, he could do what no Pomfrey or mediwizard could. He was a healer as well, and a very good one.

He would at least try. They may call for him if he made it known his services were willingly available. He would speak to Dumbledore now that he had returned from Wales. He flew there.

And for that one scrap of hope he decided to monitor how he'd handle or conduct himself.

He owed her that much. He would do more for her if he could. Anything.

_**Dumbledore's Office….an hour later…**_

"Well, Severus, I will need an hour," said Dumbledore calmly.

"Why? Why not ask immediately? I will remain quiet, if… will you contact them? By Floo perhaps? It is certainly much quicker than owls."

"And what do you suppose I tell them?"

"The truth."

"And what, Severus, might that be?" Dumbledore fixed his gaze on him. His blue eyes were steady behind his glasses that rested low on the bridge of his nose.

"That never…not in a million years would I not help her. I care for her very much."

"Would they believe that? Would anyone, even here at school?"

"I am not sure."

"Don't you think that your taking a hard line with their daughter at work and much earlier with their daughter might have reached their ears?"

"Possibly."

"I will tell you what. Give me an hour. I will travel to the parents and simply knock on their door. I will contact you as soon as I can."

"But that could mean more time then…lost."

"I am sure she if stable. We would have certainly heard otherwise. I will propose your offer of assistance in the healing arts. Only…if you give me an hour. Uninterrupted. Do you agree to this?"

"Yes. Anything. For her."

"Good, And Severus…You do realize that I will ask her parents if you can see her. But if they feel it is distressing…I will try to convince them otherwise."

There was a pause, but the didn't say anything.

"Now go…and don't worry. I will let you know as soon as possible."

Snape nodded and left swiftly.

Dumbeldore waited until the door closed and Snape was out of sight of the corridor. When he was satisfied while looking at that he was gone, he contacted Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva."

"Yes."

"I require a meeting, if you please…everyone, er, involved at Grimmauld Place. I have an hour. We have an hour. Alert Sirius and the others. I need Professor Sinistra too. And nobody is to contact or tell Severus Snape anything until we speak."

"Why, yes, of course. Why is that?"

"We will speak about it at Sirius Black's home."


End file.
